


Field Trip

by tracy7307



Series: Harringrove ficlets [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracy7307/pseuds/tracy7307
Summary: It’s a three hour bus ride to the Art Institute of Chicago. They’ll be gone all day - leaving at 6am, not returning until 5pm. Somehow, the art teacher invited both Billy and Steve even though neither of them have art class right now – Steve thinks maybe Billy charmed her into it – but neither is complaining.





	Field Trip

**Author's Note:**

> More tumblr drabbles! find me there: [tracy7307](http://tracy7307.tumblr.com/)

It’s a three hour bus ride to the Art Institute of Chicago. They’ll be gone all day - leaving at 6am, not returning until 5pm. Somehow, the art teacher invited both Billy and Steve even though neither of them have art class right now – Steve thinks maybe Billy charmed her into it – but neither is complaining.

Steve filters onto the bus. He’s still half asleep as he slides into a seat in the back – the sun is just starting to glow yellow and pink on the horizon. Billy sits down heavily next to him. 

_Everyone_ falls asleep on the ride up. Billy’s head falls to Steve’s shoulder and his breathing is slow and steady, eyes closed. Steve thinks about shrugging his shoulder. Shoving Billy aside. But he doesn’t. He lets Billy sleep. One hour in, Billy inhales sharply. Tenses a bit. Settles in closer to Steve’s side, and relaxes.

Steve looks at Billy’s thigh, covered in tight denim. Checks around at everyone surrounding them – still asleep. His stomach flips as he slides his fingers, his hand, up slowly on top of Billy’s thigh. Steve feels a responding pressure against his leg - Billy pressing his leg tighter against’s Steve’s. 

Steve squeezes, just slightly. _Steve_ , Billy whispers – so quietly. Steve rubs up higher. 

The bus lurches to a halt. “Restroom stop! Leaving again in ten,” the driver shouts. They reluctantly reclaim their individual space.

After that, everyone’s awake. They sneak little touches where they can - Billy’s hand over Steve’s as they both touch the long gold door handle. They share a map of the museum and pretend to be very interested in it as they both hold it, fingers touching. 

They’re looking at _Nighthawks_ – Steve remembers seeing it before, lonely people in a cafe at night, present together but isolated – when Billy asks if he could use the closest restroom. The guide points it out with a smile, and Billy glances once at Steve before walking away. 

Steve follows. As soon as he enters the restroom Billy’s got his hands on him, yanking him by his jacket, clutching, his hand on Steve’s face, his lips pressing, and Steve feels Billy’s stubble beneath his lips, kisses Billy’s jaw. Billy pushes him into a stall, closes the door. Billy’s tongue is in Steve’s mouth and he moans, presses Billy back against the wall. 

The main restroom door opens loudly and they break apart. Billy’s gaze is intense and somehow is chest is heaving but he’s so quiet – Steve feels loud, like his breathing is obscene in this environment, magnified by the silence. This is a place for quiet reverence and respect, but he just wants to moan and huff and shake the fucking walls. 

Steve kisses Billy again – slowly this time, quietly. “We should get back.” 

Billy nods. He touches the side of Steve’s face, making Steve pause as he reaches for the latch. “You’re more beautiful than anything out there.” 

That night, in the solitude of Steve’s house, Steve would repeat Billy’s words against the naked skin of Billy’s lower back.


End file.
